


different names for the same thing

by jaekyu



Category: Monsta X (Band), NCT (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Alternate Universe - Police, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2018-12-25 08:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12032130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaekyu/pseuds/jaekyu
Summary: drabble collection. tags subject to change (constantly).





	1. the gospel through cain & abel {nct: johnny/ten}

**Author's Note:**

> here's a place for all the things i'll never properly finish but can't just let rot in my google docs forever. don't expect anything of substance here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> police detectives au.

_Then the Lord said to Cain, “Why are you angry? Why is your face downcast? If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must rule over it._

(GENESIS 4:6-7)

 

 

 

**1.**

Johnny’s never been one for cause and effect. He’s always better understood just the effect. That’s tangible, that’s something you can close a fist around, that’s something you can taste. Being a detective is all about the effect. The cause comes after.

That’s why being a cop gets so fucking exhausting: you’re always doing it in reverse. You’re always running a marathon that’s already finished. And guess what? You lost. Someone’s already died, someone’s already been robbed blind. The kid’s already been snatched right out of his cradle. But you knew that already. And you’re still sprinting, trying to outrun someone who’s already crossed the finish line.

You already lost.

That’s the effect.

Hard to really care about cause after that, isn’t it?

 

 

 

**2.**

The coffee at the station is thick like black tar and it tastes like it too. Johnny would rather watch it swirl in his cup after he dumps in cream and sugar then actually drink it.

“You’re late,” Ten says. He doesn’t look up from where he’s scribbling, filling in the blanks of reports to be filed away in a box in the basement, where they’ll stay until the archaic system finally transitions to all digital.

Johnny hums, a non-answer. Last he checked Ten was his partner, not his boss, and he wasn’t the one writing Johnny’s checks either.

The coffee settles like sludge in Johnny’s chest after he takes a sip.

“Are you having trouble sleeping again?”

“What do you care.”

Ten raises his eyes but not his head, looking up at Johnny from under the crease of his brow. “You spend eight hours a day with me carrying a loaded weapon,” Ten says, “I think I have a reason to care.”

 

 

 

**3.**

Forget the cause.

Here’s the effect: Johnny’s trying to keep Ten from bleeding out from his femoral artery, but no matter how much pressure he applies the blood just keeps bubbling up from between his fingers and spilling all over his hands. His dirty fucking hands. Under any other circumstance these should never go anywhere near a wound open wide but Ten’s been _shot_ , right there, right in his thigh, and he’s bleeding all over Johnny’s hands.

“If I make it through this I guess I owe you one, don’t I?” Ten says. It fades away at the end, gets slow and softer. Ten can probably barely keep his fucking eyes open. Shit.

“Shut up,” Johnny replies, “I hate that fucking word. _If._  What a pussy word. Really lets you get away with shit. Fuck _if_.”

Ten laughs. “Well shit,” he says, “I guess you’re right.”

Johnny just really wants to tell Ten to shut the fuck up. But he’s gotta stay awake. He can’t fall asleep. Asleep means dead. Asleep means never waking up again. So Johnny says, “keep talking,” and presses his hands so hard against Ten’s thigh that it makes him hiss.

 

 

 

 

 **4.**  

Johnny is the the picture fucking perfect example of _The Failure Of The American Dream_. Call him Jay fucking Gatsby.

See, he was going to play football. Johnny was playing football in high school, and he was supposed to play football after that. The rest of his life. Make a lot of money, retire with a big house and maybe a few cars and a wife. The elevated version of all those white picket fences.

Then he tore his ACL. Then that was never going to happen.

So he joined the force. And now he’s just a detective with an addictive personality, still taking his Vicodin prescription.


	2. july talks because of you {bangtan: suga/v}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> persephone & hades au.

There are ways more simple folk would tell this story. 

The beast comes for the beauty, the princess is locked away in a tower, guarded by a dragon who breathes fire around his forked tongue. A poison apple is offered by a stranger in a shroud, hand outstretched with gnawed nails and a wrinkled palm.

The simple folk will always tell this story however they wish and we can’t change that.

Know this, though: the story is more than that and it always has been. There is no princess trapped by a dragon, there is no wolf locking its jaws around the neck of a sheep, blood leaking from between it’s teeth.

In the end, there are no beasts or monsters; but the story is easier to tell that way.

 

 

In early spring a deep blue flower blooms, petals like arms stretched to the warmth of the sun in the sky, and a barefoot boy watches it happen. 

He’s not just a boy. If you look close enough you can tell. The way the grass leans into the press of his bare feet against it, the way that underneath the pale skin of his arms his veins look more like vines, the way the slow blowing of the wind seems to caress him instead of cut him with a chill. 

His name is Taehyung

“She won’t be happy if she catches you here,” Taehyung says, seemingly to no one, eyes still trained on the flower.

“I don’t think your mother has any delusions about me being very good at following rules,” Another boy emerges from his hiding place behind a tree. This boy looks older, more weathered than his counterpart, and he smells of sulfur and fire. “And from what you’ve told me, the trees are horrible gossips. She probably already knows I’m here.”

The second boy’s name is Yoongi. 

(The simpler folk would tell you this is the snake of this garden. You already know all about the way the simpler folk tell this story.)

“You miss me too much for your own good sometimes,” Taehyung chides, but he is smiling. He reaches his hand out for Yoongi.

Yoongi scoffs but he does not deny it and that is admission enough. He slides his hand into Taehyung’s, until their palms meet and their fingers thread together, the way a river meets its shore. 

When he sits next to Taehyung the grass around them wilts, caught between life and death. 

 

 

The first time Yoongi kisses Taehyung he tastes like smoke. Like tendrils of it licking down into Taehyung’s lungs and stealing his breath from him.


	3. hold me tight or don't {mx: shownu/hyungwon}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally part of a larger fic where shownu and hyungwon stop being fwbs so shownu can date kihyun, only for them to realize they're totally. in. lurve. but that's never getting finished, so have this.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.” 

Hyungwon has been broken up with in a lot of awful ways. Over the phone, in a crowded restaurant after a screaming match, after aggressive sex that left him with bruises on his chest and his ego. Sad and ugly after crying, after make up sex, after throwing a few things at each other. 

While the person breaking up with him was balls deep in his ass? That’s a new one. 

Okay, him and Hyunwoo aren’t technically breaking up because they aren’t _technically_ together. But for some reason Hyunwoo is really bringing up how he doesn’t wanna fuck Hyungwon no strings attached anymore while they’re in the middle of fucking, no strings attached.

“You wanna do this now?” Hyungwon grunts. He rolls his hips against Hyunwoo, he rolls his hips so Hyunwoo’s dick is just a little more snug inside him, and thinks, he’s really bringing this up right now?

“I mean,” Hyunwoo starts. Hyungwon cuts him off, scratching his nails against defined muscles of Hyunwoo’s pectorals. 

“No, shut up,” Hyungwoo says, “there’s definitely a better time to do this. At least let me come first.” 

It kind of ruins the mood. Hyungwon turns a little sour as he fucks himself down onto Hyunwoo to just get it over with, batting Hyunwoo’s hand away from his cock so he can finish himself off. 

Hyungwon rolls off of Hyunwoo unceremoniously after they’ve both finished and he starts gathering his clothes immediately.

“Okay,” Hyungwon says, “try that again.” 

Hyunwoo sits up in bed, blanket pooled around his waist. He scratches the back of his neck, nose wrinkled and face awkward. “Um,” Hyunwoo replies lamely, “yeah - I don’t think - I mean, we shouldn’t really do this anymore.” 

Hyungwoo slips back into his jeans, sans underwear. He can’t find them. Whatever, Hyunwoo can keep them as a souvenir. 

“Any particular reason?” Hyungwon asks.

Hyunwoo watches Hyungwon pull his shirt over his head before he answers. “I, um. I asked your roommate on a date?” 

Hyungwon stills his hands where they are patting down the mess of his hair, eyes large. “Kihyun?” He sputters in disbelief, “you asked Kihyun on a date? When? When you were over for a booty call? Because that’s so classy, man,” 

“No, jesus,” Hyunwoo denies. He brings a hand up to massage a temple. “I would never do that, okay? I was at this coffee place right off campus and he showed up and sat with me and we - I don’t know? We talked a bunch and realized we had never really properly talked before and we had a lot in common so - I guess I asked him out.” 

“You guess?” Hyungwon cocks an eyebrow, then his hip. 

“I did,” Hyunwoo corrects himself, “we’re going to a movie on Friday.” 

There’s a silence between them for a little bit. Hyungwon watches Hyunwoo pointedly avoid looking at him, before Hyungwon finally finds something to say. 

“This is fucking unbelievable,” is what it ends up being.


End file.
